


Nights Like These

by Carmailo



Series: Voltron One Shots [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Confessions, I've been writing this late at night excuse any errors im too tired to edit, Implied Anxiety, M/M, Pidge is there for like two seconds sorry, but some of it isnt, i feel like some of it is really ooc, i feel u guys, implies insomnia, oneshot for all you who dont wanna commit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:11:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmailo/pseuds/Carmailo
Summary: Sometimes, Keith can't sleep.Neither can Lance.





	Nights Like These

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Implied Anxiety, Implied Insomnia, Self-Loathing is mentioned.
> 
> Hopefully not too OOC.

It’s nights like these that Keith hates most.

When the blanket of silence is stifling, and the gentle blinking of lights by the door bothersome where they should be lulling.

Nights he _could_ pull himself out of bed and train until his body ached and he felt the blossoming of fresh bruises, forming on top of old ones. Nights he could spend plotting and scheming how to take down Zarkon and his empire. Nights he could spend imaging things he knew would never happen, things that still made his lips twitch into a smile.

No.

Nights like these, Keith worries.

And worries, and worries, and worries.

These are the nights where he wonders what will happen next.

Questions if Voltron will ever be able to win.

Some nights, when Keith worries, there’s no answer. No heart-clenching reply to what he’s asking.

But on some nights, just like these, Keith hears a response.

The voice is his own, whispering his greatest fears, promising that they will come true, swearing that there is no escape from his thoughts.

And on some nights, nights exactly like this one, the fear snakes it’s way into his heart and tugs.

These nights, where Keith worries, gets an answer, and is _scared,_ he curls into a ball and tries to hold himself together, tries to push away the thoughts and tell himself it’s fine.

Swears he’ll beat this, tells himself he’ll be alright.

Keith hates nights like these.

He _hates_ them. Why, of all the paladins, does _Keith_ have to have nights like these?

“Keith?”

There has never been a night when another paladin visits.

He pretends he’s asleep. Tries to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes and tell himself he’s fine.

“Buddy?” A step, and the door slides shut behind him.

Keith does not want to deal with Lance. Not on a night like _this._

“You were… You were making some noises, there. Are you-”

“Go away, Lance.” Keith grinds out, hoping his shaking voice doesn’t give him away.

Lance is quiet, at first, and Keith thinks he’s gone.

“I’m just worried.” He replies, much closer than he’d been before.

Keith twists his neck around, finding Lance seated next to the bed, back pressed against the frame. His eyes are shut, and Keith wonders why.

“It’s hard to sleep, huh?” He says suddenly. Keith almost startles in surprise, turning and firmly pressing himself, back-first, against the wall.

“You never really notice how loud Earth is until you’re stuck on a giant… castle… ship.” The light reflects off Lance’s eyes, opened the slightest bit and settling on nothing.

“Yeah.” Keith says, releasing the breath he’d been holding.

They fall silent, listening to the nothingness and studying the outlines of Keith’s room.

“Why’re you here?” Keith says, at long last breaking the silence in search of an answer he is not afraid to hear.

“Because you needed me, obviously.” Lance explains.

“I did _not_ need you!”

“Alright, fine, then I’ll leave.” Lance says, mirth and hurt creating a bittersweet tone that Keith doesn’t understand.

Lance gets to his feet, but before he can take a step or offer another taunt, Keith’s hand reaches out and latches on his wrist. “No. Stay.”

“Keith, you don’t have to feel bad for kicking me out-”

“I don’t. And I’m not.” Keith replies quickly, giving a tug to prove himself.

Lance stumbles and falls onto the bed, legs hanging off and back draped over Keith’s legs. They scramble to sit up, both paladins regarding one another with guarded confusion.

Keith notices just how tired Lance looks. How the bruising beneath his blue eyes leeches the energy that is always present during the day. “What?” Lance asks, sighing with exhaustion.

“You look tired.” Keith replies without a second thought.

“Geez, if it wasn’t whatever god-awful hour it is and I wasn’t, like, _super_ tired, I’d make an effort to be indignant.” Lance yawns to prove his point.

“You should sleep. You-”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Lance responds, chin in hand, elbow on knee.

“I _can’t sleep,_ ” Keith says.

“Sure you can’t.” Lance mumbles, rubbing at his eye.

“You’re _exhausted,_ ” Keith says then, reaching up to pull Lance’s hand away from his face.

He’s acting weird. Really weird. But so is Lance. Keith blames it on the building fatigue. “Mm, so are you.” Lance interrupts. He yawns and starts talking again, “I could fall asleep… right… here.”

Of course, Lance has the ability to fall asleep while sitting up. He tips to the side and Keith grabs his shoulder to stop him. “Keith… les sleep…” Lance yawns again, tugging on the hem of Keith’s shirt.

“Lance, you gotta back to your room-”

“I will, I will… jus… come sleep.” He mumbles, tipping fully so he lands on the bed, tucked tightly into his own space.

He pats the bed next to him, “I’m sleepy for once.”

Keith’s brow furrows and he bites the inside of his lip. “Lance-”

“I know, I know, Keith is too cool… I’ll go then.” Lance starts rolling out of the bed, and Keith grabs him by the shoulder.

“Hm?” Lance hums, Keith slowly settles himself in next to Lance.

“There’s no way in hell you can make it back to your room without dying, or something.”

They barely touch at all, but Keith feels Lance’s presence as clearly as he feels the pillow beneath his head.

“Keith?” Lance whispers, shifting closer, “don’t try and deal with so many things on your own.”

His hand clasps Keith’s shoulder but doesn’t retreat.

Keith finds he doesn’t mind all too much.

“Keith?” Lance whispers again, sliding closer, yet _again,_ “you can talk to me, if you want to.”

“I don’t need to talk to you. Besides, you’re half-asleep. You won’t be able to help.”

“I don’t have to _help,_ I just have to be able to listen.”

“You can’t listen if you’re asleep.” Keith says, fondness leaking into his voice.

Lance has his front pressed against Keith’s arm, one hand reaching across his chest and the other on the shoulder closest to Lance. “Lance, are you alright?” Keith asks, trying to disguise his discomfort at the unfamiliar touches.

“‘M fine... Oh-” suddenly, Lance is wide-awake, sitting up and tugging on his shoes.

“Did you not want me to- _god,_ I’m being so stupid. I- I’ll go. Sorry, Keith.” He tries to move away, make a break for the door.

Keith launches himself at Lance, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing the side of his face against the soft material of Lance’s shirt. “No- I-I…” Keith fumbles for words.

“Lance?” He whispers at last, and Lance doesn’t make him say anymore, tells Keith he understands in the way the tension drains from his body.

They shift back onto the bed together, Keith still pressed tightly against Lance, confused about his actions but still glad that he hadn’t been rejected.

He finds himself in a state of awe, and sadness, wondering how long Lance is willing to give and knowing it’s nothing past that evening.

This is one of those things he fantasizes about some nights. Not being in a bed with Lance, or anything dirty or impure like that.

Just… being with Lance. Having him next to him. Sometimes Lance and Keith were dating.

Sometimes they were just close friends.

Sometimes they were in union, a band around one another’s ring finger to remind them of the blissful eternity they would spend together.

Other times, on the worrying nights, Lance would refuse Keith when he reached out, ridicule him and laugh.

But here, in real life, in the only place Keith couldn’t control Lance’s response, he learned just how much and how little he had expected.

Keith didn’t need Lance to promise anything. As long as he knew that Keith needed him right now, and as long as Lance was there, it was fine.

It was alright.

“Keith?” Lance says, voice so quiet that Keith thought he might have imagined it.

“Oh- if you want to go-” Keith’s arms loosen as heat rushes to his face.

“ _No,_ ” Lance replies, so fierce that Keith wonders how he’d been so sleepy before.

Lance has managed to twist halfway and does so fully, sliding his arm under Keith’s neck in an embrace.

Lance smiles softly at Keith, who’s still watching Lance with that melancholy awe. Keith shuts his partially opened mouth and diverts his gaze.

“We’re… we’re really bad at this.” He says, letting out a small laugh. His hands shift so they’re resting over Lance’s shoulder blades, bent at the elbows at the base of Lance’s ribs.

“Yeah,” Lance agrees softly, letting out his own laugh.

It’s low and deep, and Keith finds he quite likes the soft baritone. “I guess we are.”

“Lance?” Keith asks as their laughs die down, “what’s ‘this’?”

“What do you mean?” Lance asks, fingers suddenly toying with the ends of Keith’s hair.

“When I said that we were really bad at this. I don’t know what _this_ is.” Keith murmurs, daring a glance up at Lance, who looks absolutely serene.

“Well, you don’t _have_ to know,” Lance starts, fingers moving from the fringe at the nape of Keith’s neck to his jawline, “I don’t know what _this_ is, either.”

Keith considers this as Lance continues, “and that’s perfectly alright.” His fingers trails distractingly up to the shell of his ear, thumb brushing over the soft flesh.

“And I spent this whole time, thinking you were an idiot.” Keith says, offering a small smile.

Lance gives the smile he gives girls when his flirting works: sort of crooked, like his face is jelly, and only half the muscles are working. Keith thinks it’s sort of handsome, in a way.

“You have a nice smile.” Lance says suddenly.

Keith looks away, flustered. Lance’s fingers pause on Keith’s ear. “What are we doing?” Keith asks, voice low, but filled with his flushed smile.

“I don’t know,” Lance says, and when Keith looks up now, he’s red in the cheeks, “but I don’t-... I like it.” He says, trying his best to keep up his ‘cool’ attitude.

Keith stifles the urge to snort.

“Stop worrying about it.” Lance suggests, shifting his hand so his palm rests on Keith’s cheek.

“I can’t.” Keith insists.

“Okay,” Lance says, thinking. His hand moves from Keith’s cheek to hold his own chin in thought. “Ah-ha!” He erupts suddenly, making Keith jump, “I’ve got it.” His typical flirtatious gusto has returned.

“You’ve got what?” Keith asks, deadpan in response.

“A name. For this.” Lance gestures in the small space between one another.

“Alright.” Keith says, curious.

“You,” Lance’s fingertip lands square in the center of Keith’s chest, “Keith Kogane, paladin of the red lion of Voltron,” Lance says, pausing for effect, “are now my,” Lance points at himself, “Lance Charles McClain's, paladin of the blue lion,”

There’s another pause that makes Keith wonder if Lance will ever finish, “boyfriend.”

Lances smiles slyly as the words sink in.

“B-boyfriend?” Keith sputters, sitting up suddenly.

“What?” Lance asks, cocking his head from his position on the bed.

“You moron! We’ve barely been civil until, like, twenty minutes ago!”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to be my _boyfriend_...” Lance teases.

“Shut _up!_ Besides, why do I have to be _your_ boyfriend? What can’t you be _my_ boyfriend?” Keith demands, delivering a soft punch to Lance’s stomach.

Lance curls in on himself with laughter at the childish response. “It’s settled then.” He decrees, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes - Keith punches _hard,_ even when he's only joking.

“What’s settled?” Keith asks, exasperated.

“We’re each other’s boyfriends now.” Lance says, trying to hide a snicker.

“Argh!” Keith groans, leaning forward to plant his face firmly in his pillow. He proceeds to release a muffled groan of frustration.

“It’s okay, buddy, let it all out.” Lance encourages, patting Keith’s back gently, “it _is_ quite an honor to be my _boyfriend,_ after all.”

Keith sits up again, trying to stop his eye from twitching. “You know what, I give up.” Keith says, rolling over top Lance to get off the bed, taking extra care to deliver a few elbows to the gut.

“Geez, Keith, you’re heavy.” Lance laughs.

Keith whips his head around. “You don’t stop, do you?” He asks, frustration hitting another level as he wheezes.

“Hey, Keith, I’m just joking.” Lance says then, realizing how much distress Keith is feeling.

“No- I know- it’s just- ugh!” He walks over to the corner and leans forward, pressing his forehead against the cool metal there.

“Keith, buddy?” Lance asks. “Hey, hey, Keith, you know what I just realized?” Lance prompts, prodding Keith in the shoulder.

“What.” He says, voice muffled by the wall and his own mortification.

“We-” Lance breaks off, trying to fight laughter, “we had a bonding moment- I- _I cradled you in my arms!_ ”

“Shut. Up.” Keith demands, toying with the idea of stabbing Lance with his dagger.

“Sorry, sorry.” Lance says, wiping the last of laughter from his voice. A calm happiness remained on his features, however, and when Keith turned around, he almost regretted it. How was he supposed to stay mad?

“But I wasn’t really joking.” Lance says quietly, so low that Keith is almost sure that he’s made a mistake, but he _hasn’t_.

“I’ll leave, now.” Lance excuses himself, slipping away before Keith can think to stop him.

“Lance- Lance!” Keith calls, following him out of the door. Lance is already gone, though, so Keith begins sprinting down the hall to his room.

“Lance!” He yells, banging a fist on the door. The panel slides open to reveal an empty room, Lance’s jacket thrown over a chair back.

Keith squishes to urge to inhale the smell of the jacket.

“Lance, where _are_ you?” Keith yells, running faster down the corridor. Pidge leans out of her doorway, rubbing her eye beneath her round glasses.

“Keith, what are you running around screaming for?” She asks, watching as Keith bolts past, ignoring her.

He needs to find Lance. Needs to find him and tell him he feels the same, that he’s so unsure but still so sure, that _yes, I’d love to be your boyfriend._

Keith runs for what feel likes forever, but must have only been a half hour.

He still can’t find Lance, so he gives up, sits in against a wall and draws his knees to his chin. What was he even going to do if he caught up to Lance? Kiss him? Hug him? Those weren’t very _Keith_ things to do.

Weary with the chase and confusion, Keith gives himself in to the sleep that tugs at his eyelids, not really caring that he doesn’t really know where he is and that someone might stumble across him there.

He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply.

He felt indignant, maybe a little hurt, and very, very confused. How could Lance _do_ that? You don’t just tell someone you like them in _like that_ and then run off!

Overcome with fatigue, Keith lets himself slump against the wall as the blanket of sleep drags him under. He remains in a state between awake and asleep, too tired to force himself up, but not tired enough to remain steadily asleep.

Full sleep comes in short bouts, times in which moments are ticking by, by never enough to fully recharge him.

In one of these breaks of complete sleep, Keith is lifted into the air and carried. He wakes at the sound of a familiar voice, but can’t find it in himself to pick a fight.

“You really should sleep in your room, Keith.” Lance says.

Keith looks up at Lance through his lashes. “You weigh a lot. Although not an unbearable amount for someone as strong as I. I’m pretty sure you're all muscle-mass, though.” Lance winks down at Keith. 

They pass through the doorway of Keith’s room, Lance shuffling awkwardly to enter without hurting Keith. “Here we are.” Lance says softly, placing Keith into the cot.

With the little strength Keith can muster, he grips Lance’s shirt front. The grip feels feeble and embarrasses Keith. “You can’t say things like that and run off.”

“I didn’t run off. I just… okay, yes, I may have run off,” Lance agrees.

“What did you mean?” Keith asks, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“That I wasn’t really kidding.”

“Don’t dodge the question, stupid.”

“I meant about the whole, y’know…” Lance looks nervous, blushing and avoiding Keith’s eyes.

“I don’t know, no. Please, elaborate.” Keith says, deadpan in all his glory.

Lance squeezes his eyes shut. “I wasn’t kidding about the whole boyfriends thing!” He rushes out.

Keith relaxes his loose grip. “Good.” He mumbles, giving a sudden tug, pulling Lance onto the bed.

Lance lands next to Keith, the small space just barely enough to accommodate both on their backs.

Grabbing Lance’s hand that is farthest from him, Keith rolls over so Lance is spooning him, his hand on Keith’s waist.

“Next time, let the other person at least reply before running off.” Keith mumbles, feeling sleep at the edge of his consciousness.

Lance puts his arms around Keith’s waist and buries his face into his neck with a nod. He hopes there’s never another time he has to confess to someone. He’s much happier cradling Keith, and knows the feeling will never grow old.

Abruptly, all those daunting nights of sleeplessness and concern and confusion and self-loathing seemed smaller in the light of Lance.

Nights like these, Keith realized, were going to become nights he could bear.

Nights like these, nights tangled up with Lance, enjoying one another’s presence, were going to be _nice._

**Author's Note:**

> So I made a oneshot for klance cause i just fell into Voltron HELL  
> mmmMHURTS SO GOOD
> 
> Anyways, I used some of my personal HCs here, hope you don't mind, sorry if you don't like it, 'cause I really enjoyed writing it
> 
> Insomnia based off of me, where sometimes it's "STAY UP ALL NIGHT" and other times its "pass out at 7pm" and sometimes its like 2am and then my mind shuts down from sleep deprivation.
> 
> lemme tell you, can't wait for my exams to be over/////
> 
> FUN FACT THIS ONESHOT WAS EXACTLY 3000 WORDS
> 
> **Edited August 4, 2017 (3am yolo)**


End file.
